


Let Hope Never Die (Figure Eight Remix)

by Lunarium



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Flowers, Gen, M/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-25 08:03:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12031632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: Yumi notices a young man admiring the flowering almond in her garden.





	Let Hope Never Die (Figure Eight Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geckoholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/gifts).
  * Inspired by [In The Image Of A Figure Eight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11209455) by [lostemotion (geckoholic)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/pseuds/lostemotion). 



Redolent aromas greeted Yumi when she stepped into the shop that morning. The news buzzed in the background as the shades of the windows rolled up, the live coverage reporting on the tragic deaths of three astronauts on a mission in outer space. They were all local heroes, all from the same state, same nearby city, and two so young. Such a pity, she had thought when the news first aired, for their futures to be robbed. They must have been younger than her son Kenji who would be coming here in a couple hours. 

The funeral was to be held today. She hummed a little prayer for them as she set off to work, peered over the requests for today, and tended to watering what needed to be watered. Out came the displays, bouquets of flowers of many kinds to attract costumers like bees to the little shop. The flowers fluttered gently in the wind, greeting the morning sun. 

The flower shop had been her grandfather’s when he had immigrated to the country, and every since she was a little girl Yumi enjoyed summers at the shop, with the flowers beside her and the sun’s rays bathing them in golden glow. 

Now her son would inherit the shop. As if on cue, she heard her name being called and the warm embrace of her son as he greeted her. They spoke a little before she was relieved from her duty. She made her way back to her home to where she tended to a garden full of all the flowers she loved. 

In the garden was a small shed for her own personal use, with a tiny television to keep her company as she worked on some projects for friends. She worked on an arraignment as the news reporter covered the next stories for the day, goods days and tragedies both, and some nuisances occurring at state-level government which earned the news reporter a shake of the head from Yumi. 

As she was picking up stray fallen leaves from a newly potted plant, that was when she took note of the young man passing by. His black suit and carefully-combed hair did not give so much about where he had come from as did the expression on his face. Pain and grief etched along his expression. His entire frame shook with the very foundations of mourning. Grief clung to him like shadows strewn by overcast skies and dark clouds. Eyebrows furrowed and lips downcast into a frown, his mind seemed running elsewhere, many miles from this spot. She was familiar with the pains of loss, having had to say farewell many times in her life (and a couple times, never having the chance for a proper goodbye), but she could not imagine who it was he lost. Still, compassion seeped for the young man clearly lost in his own pain, lost and hurt. 

That is, until he spotted one of the flowers of her garden. From their placement, she knew it had to be her flowering almonds that caught his eye; and the transformation, instantaneous and miraculous, kept her rooted to her seat. The young man’s eyes scanned as if reading some sign etched into the soft petals of the flowers; slowly, his eyebrows unknitted and the downcast lips set into a flat line as something awoke deep within him. As if the sight of the flower itself had reignited a flame, awakening life back into the young man, he peered back down the road from whence he had come, and grinned with a newfound determination that was not at all there moments before. 

He sprinted down the sidewalk, and Yumi set her teacup down, mulling over the little incident. 

Hours later, as the news recapped the funeral of the Kerberos mission while she prepared dinner, Yumi looked up, taking note of the time of the funeral, thought back to the young man, and gave a soft contemplative hum.

*

Fate brought the young man passing by another day and this time Yumi was out tending on the garden. The summer sun rested behind the tall buildings of the city, offering some shade for her to work without too much bother when she heard the steps.

Passersby were plenty here. Some would stop to admire her flowers. Some kept going, too hurried or preoccupied by some other thought to take note of the world around them. One, a young little girl, often used her garden as the subject of her photography. 

And then there was the young man again from before. Eyebrows furrowed again, the grief didn’t sit inside as much as the fire of determination for _something_ , but when he stopped and took notice of the flowering almond once more, his features softened as if remembering the first time he had encountered them. 

“You seem quite taken with my flowers,” Yumi said. 

The young man gave a start before quickly recovering. 

“Yeah. It’s a weird story, but the first time I saw them, I wasn’t in a good place. I was worrying about something. It…” he shrugged as one hand went to stroke the back of his head, struggling if his story was too odd for her. “It felt like fate. I know the meaning of these flowers. It was the first thing I saw after coming out of a funeral.” 

So it was a funereal. Yumi nodded sympathetically. 

“It seems it’s given you reason to push on.” 

The man nodded. “It’s…yeah. Well, ever since I saw it, I decided to…go on a quest, you could say? I know it must sound strange to you. It would make more sense if I explained, which…” 

“I need no explanation, and you do not sound strange to me.” She smiled. “Would you like to take some of the flowers home?” 

At this his eyes widened and he took a hesitant step back. “I wouldn’t want to trespass on your hospitality.” 

“It would be my pleasure,” Yumi said. “I used to own a flower shop before my retirement. I know how much a flower can impact a person.” 

As if that convinced him, the man’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled. She welcomed him in by opening the fence gate to her garden. As he stood there looking uncertain, she retrieved her gardening tools and sought for some young still-budding, and healthy flowering almond to unearth. The roots were the most difficult parts to dig out, especially without jeopardizing the rest of the flower, but moving with expertise ease she managed. She led him over to the shed and placed the flowering almond into a small pot, patting them down with some fertilizer. 

“You really don’t have to, but thank you,” the man said. “Um, do you want anything for them?” 

She took note of the stitches holding the straps of his backpack together. “What is your name?” 

“Keith.” 

“Then this is what I want from you, Keith. I want you to never let that hope die, you understand? It makes you strong and it will get your through the impossible. Whatever quest you are on, you will see it through with hope.” 

Keith’s eyes glowed with warmth in the sunset as he accepted his new pot of flowering almond. He thanked her kindly and was off. The evening sun was just behind the trees far in the distance, and the sky glowed the warmest hues. 

Hope. Let hope guide him through to the end of his quest.


End file.
